This may be it

[OldBaldy1701E]

75. Ahh... my favorite Little Feat song...

Although 'Willin' certainly is a very close second.

I am still here. Still trying to figure out why. Still wondering about the sadistic nature of our society that it won't help but won't let me leave. Things like that. My husband and I had a screamfest the other day because I finally snapped over a computer issue. The issue did not involve him in any way, but he decided that it gave him a headache to hear me slamming things and yelling one floor above him. I tried to walk outside, but it was too cold and I cannot walk much anyway these days because of some heel issue that I cannot afford to deal with right now, if ever. Who knows? I cannot even think much these days. Probably my brain trying not to completely give out, although the few years that I was given Effexor and Paxil ruined it pretty badly. (But hey, a 74% success rate is good enough to toss those things down anyone's throat, right? Still wonder how they get a blanket 'go' with that percentage, but what do I know?)

One thing that could be seen as positive is that I am able to play guitar again. Okay, so a few years ago I had to start wearing carpel tunnel braces because both hands would be 'asleep' and very painful every morning when I woke up. The metal brace in them terminated right on top of my capitate joint. The continued use apparently wore the joint out until I could no longer close my fist without that joint popping out. I would have to literally grab the finger and pop it back into place. I had no ability fo grasp anything. At first I thought this was the result of arthritis. But, after a time I stopped using the braces because the initial usage reason disappeared. (This is typical with my body these days. Things come and go... abilities do and then don't work.) The damage was done however, and it was several months later that I figured out why just both middle fingers had issues. So, I thought my guitar playing days were over. I sold my beloved Cort Curbow bass, but never could make myself sell my Yamaha G or my sweet baby, a 1977 Fender Telecaster. The only guitar I ever wanted. Fast forward to about six months ago, and I started to realize that I could close my finger a little more on one hand. I now have almost full use again and can even snap my fingers, which was something that would have been impossible a year ago. Now... having said this, I wish to point out that I have struggled with a complete loss of desire to pursue anything for almost a decade now. And, as far as my performing career (or NON-career to be more accurate) is concerned, I gave up on the entire thing back in 2000 because it had basically done nothing but cause misery and pain. (I really envy those who went through the first 20+ years of their lives without an idea of what they wanted to do. What I did was an obsession, ask any performer. And, you don't just stop feeling that because you failed miserably doing it.) I did other things that are still part of the entertainment industry, but the prospect of performance being able to generate a living went out the window. After the disaster of the 80s and 90s, when arts programs and artistic settings were discarded because they did not give a 70% ROI or what the fuck ever, the concept of artistic expression disappeared. It truly became impossible to be a performer without also being a MBA graduate. But, my skillset is performing. So, I worked at a school for almost a decade, doing media, assisting the IT person, and afterschool programs and so on. But, one can never escape politics, even when one does his or her best not to be involved with that shit at all. (And a back injury that they refused to accept. Since the injury was the kind that did not seem like an issue at first, or that it may be a permanent injury, I did not seek treatment for it and after I realized what was going on all I ever got was the polite equivalent of "Kiss it!".) However, after the hand issue, I figured I was truly done with any of it. Fortunately, before I completely lost the ability to play, I managed to finish my final effort in music, so at least that was done and I felt I could let it all go. (Of course, I cannot.) I still suffer from looking at the instruments every single day and then never touching them because why do something that just reminds you of your complete failures in life? The one thing that truly gave me joy now just gives me pain. So, I still do not play, even though I am now at the point where I can. I still look like a weeble with bad teeth (a side effect of depression. I have always said that a good indicator of depression and/or anxiety is a lack of dental health. Most real depressives/anxiety sufferers do not worry about such things and if one never gets any help for their mental health, even when one does attempt to take care of their mouths when they are not so 'under the weather', one tends to end up like me.), so I cannot perform any more anyway. Hell, my voice is so out of shape now, I doubt I could make it through two songs. And, why even bother? It is all a waste of time and it is just torture to even think about it. I see no reason to be glad about my hands getting better because this is just going to add to the torture.